Children of Time and Space
by DottyDevine
Summary: Armin Arlert was not an inherently brave person. But circumstance beyond his control, and a mysterious madman with an unusual box, force him to face his fears and make difficult decisions, allowing him to encounter new comrades and enemies on the adventure of a lifetime. Story is more interesting than it sounds, I promise. Rated "T", but may later be changed to "M" just to be safe.
1. Prologue

Armin Arlert was not an inherently very brave person.

As a young child, bullies had regularly used the petite blonde boy as a recreational punching bag, often doing sowith little concern or remorse for their victim. That is until they either tired of Armin's sobbing or his friends stepped in to intervene. These daily rituals, re-inforced by the fact that the only people who seemed to care about his abuse were often forced to come to his rescue, rather than he defending himself, had insured that Armin would grow into a fairly timid person with little stomach for life's more unexpected terrors.

Considering the fact that Armin had been raised in a society that walled itself off from the rest of the outside world, always living in fear of the unkown threat outside their protection, he'd felt he actually had it pretty good. Better than he might've anyway.

And it wasn't as though he'd had to endure it all alone either. His childhood best friends, Mikasa and Eren, had always managed to come to his aid, no matter how inconvienient it may have been for them. In the end, they always ran off the bullies, helping a dirty and sniffling Armin back to his feet, all the while chiding him for not fighting back. But no matter how much they'd nagged him, Armin would never fight back.

He didn't need to. In his mind, he'd already won.

Despite his fear of others who could easily overpower him physically, Armin had a continual habit of voicing unpopular thoughts and opinions when in the prescence of ignorant bullies, even when the expression of these thoughts and opinions lead to Armin being kicked into the dirt. Eren and Mikasa had often cautioned him against speaking his mind aloud all the time, for fear that it would only increase the boys' bullying. After all, they'd often say, We aren't always going to be able to help you in time. These warnings only served to strengthen Armin's resolve to be tougher. He was determined to be better than his bullies, and the others who feared them, to be smarter than them.

To reinforce this decision, Armin often read. It was his escape, from the world around him. The world that lay safe within walls built high to protect him from threats he had only read about, and never seen, from some greater horror than even bored, sadistic children, he'd been told.

Books were his weapon as well as his escape, the only ones he'd had against his tormentors. Few others in the town read as voraciously as Armin did, because few other people had as much reason to. They were happy, pretending they were completely safe, that there wasn't anything to know other than the fact that the walls existed, and that they existed to protect the good people of Shiganshina, and the districts beyond. They were content in their belief that, here behind walls of thick stone, they did not need to fear _them._

Armin knew better.

He _knew _that beyond the walls lay terrible things, things that could kill someone as tiny, and frail as himself in an instant. But he also knew that beyond the wall lay beautiful, wonderful things! Things he'd never seen before within the small, caged- in world in which he lived. Things like huge oceans of water, snowfields of sand, burning water and more! And he knew, oh he _knew_ these things were real! Knew that they were real the way he knew grass was green and the sky was blue. He knew because he'd read about it, and because he'd read about it, he'd it seen it. In his mind, it was all clear, and indistinguishable from every other thing that he simply knew to be fact.

He knew.

And it was this knowledge, this complete certainty on his part, that allowed him to continue facing his would-be-tormentors. They were bigger, and stronger, but _why_ did they hit and kick and beat him? _Why_ did they become tense and more frantic when he mentioned the outside? _Why_ did they spit on him when he insisted that he was better for not fighting?

_He_ knew why.

It was because they also knew what he did, about the world outside, but they were afraid. They hit him because they were afraid he would convince them. He would convince them that he was right, that there was more to life than just this, that maybe they weren't as safe as they'd all thought. And when he said these things to their faces, told them of his assurances that they were afraid, moreso even than he, and their kicks and punches became more panicked and earnest, he took comfort in knowing it affected them so strongly.

They knew, just like him. But unlike him, they did not want to acknowledge these truths. They ignored them, and pretended the facts didn't exist.

They were desperate to remain ignorant, and happier that way.

But pretending something wasn't real, no matter how much you wished for it, did not really make it go away.

This was why Armin had refused to fight back, why he'd continued to talk even as they continued to hurt him. They were afraid. They were afraid just like him. No, it was more than that. They were afraid _of_ him. They knew. They knew what he said was true, that he was better than them.

He was better, because he was smarter, and he was wiser.

Eren and Mikasa never scolded him for saying these things to them, for showing him the books he read, and telling him the things he'd seen in their pages. Eren had even seemed to enjoy it and shared in Armin's enthusiasm for the world outside walls or cages. So fargone in their illusions of freedom had they been, in childish innocence they'd sworn one day to see those things together, to venture outside and see it all. And Armin had imagined it could happen, deperately dreamed it, because deep down he knew that as likely as that possibility was, so was the possibility that they would die before it could happen.

The reality of their situation, and the sheer absurdity of their dreams, hit Armin very hard and very suddenly too soon after their dream had begun. All the years Armin had spent fighting to be brave in the face of physical abuse and torment, with only his two friends and books to rely on for resolve, came crashing down around him, the same day the wall did.

The day that Eren and Mikasa's mother died.

The day that they lost their home. The day that the Titans, the worst plague upon humans in the history of mankind, breached wall Maria.

That day, Armin forgot about his books, about his dreams, about his ideals.

That day Armin remembered what it was to be afraid again.

Armin had continued to be afraid, for years after.

He'd stayed with Eren and Mikasa after the fall of the wall, because, after the death of his Grandfather, he'd feared being alone.

When Eren and Mikasa joined the military, in hopes of someday avenging their mother and the numerous deaths of others, Armin joined too, because he'd feared for his friends lives.

When he'd realized how impossible physical training was, and that he was often barely able to keep up with the others, he'd forced himself to keep going, to learn everything that they couldn't, because he'd feared becoming useless.

When they'd graduated, and Eren and Mikasa chose to join the Scouting Legion, he'd chosen to follow them, because he'd feared he would otherwise never see a world outside the walls.

When Titans had attacked wall Rose, only hours after graduation, Armin had joined the fight to stop the influx of Titans through the breach, because he'd feared for humanity.

When a Titan had managed to snatch Armin up as he helplessly watched his comrades being eaten all around him, dropping him into it's large, cavernous mouth, he'd clawed and kicked and screamed, because he'd feared dying.

When Eren had grabbed his hand and pulled him out, tossing him out onto the roof below, Armin watching in terror as Eren struggled to hold the behemoth's mouth open, blood pouring from the wounds on his limbs, he'd feared losing his friend.

When Eren's outstretched arm was snapped off as the jaws of the Titan closed around him, swallowing him whole, and sending the remaining chunk of Eren's arm flying past Armin's tear-stained face, Armin had screamed. He'd cried out in anguish and screamed until he was hoarse.

And as he'd sat there, on the rooftop alone, the only survivor of his recon squad left, Armin had realized. He'd realized, he no longer had anything to be afraid of. He'd given up on fear, and given in to despair.

Armin had managed to survive that day and, as it turned out, so had Mikasa, and even Eren, as a result of some sort of heaven sent miracle, had not been devoured.

But despite their survival, and the successful re-posession of the Titan-infested town, Armin had continued to feel unafraid. He'd already lost the thing most important to him: His family. It was true that it had been returned to him, but he'd then known what could happen during an attack. He'd known how it felt to lose everything you cared about. Once again, knowledge had given Armin the strength to continue, to keep going even though it could all mean nothing in the end.

He'd learned the hard way that hope was dangerous, that the best way to survive was to stick to facts and figures.

Armin had continued to survive, joining the Scouting Legion on their missions to recapture the lost human territory. He joined in the search for an answer to the Titan problem, and he aided in whatever way was required of him. Together, he, Mikasa and Eren had continued searching for knowledge about the outside world through their time with the Legion, dispatching countless Titans along the way.

Mikasa grew into a fierce warrior, her blades efficiently chopping through the montsers' flesh in a way so effortless, and graceful yet ruthless, Armin was sure she would have earned the envy of any dancer.

Eren, having survived being devoured by one of the Titans, had shocked everyone when he'd demonstrated that he was able to transform into a Titan himself, one capable of intelligent thought and self-control. Though it had been later discovered that he was one among many with the ability to do so, Eren's rare abilitiy allowed him to decimate his enemies in battle, giving him the strength to completely knock off heads if he so desired, and he became a great boon to the goals of the Scouting Legion.

And Armin, Armin continued to fight, despite having no obvious athletic or physical combat skill. In forcing himself to continue onward in spite of these important flaws, he'd realized he posessed the ability to quickly analyze situations and devise appropriate strategies on the fly, in addition to being able to memorize vast amounts of information and store them away for future scenarios. These skills, skills many of which the other soldiers seemed to lack, ensured him a position of importance and respect among his peers.

Together, with Eren and Mikasa at his side, they made a formidable team. Despite their hardships, despite all the suffering they had all endured, they'd finally seemed to be making progress. They retook land, saved soldiers and civillians, discovered the existence of intelligent Titans, and had begun to make progress on following up on a solid lead that had been believed would finally explain what the Titans really were, where they came from, and how they could defeat them.

Armin had almost dared to hope.

He now regretted even that much.

They had found it. They'd found what they had wanted so badly, the supposed answer to the plight of humankind for over a hundred of years now. They had thought it would lead to their salavation, and an end of a century's worth of hurt and suffering. It had never occurred to them that what they might find, might only confirm their worst fears: That there was no salvation. Armin had never expected to be more afraid of and simultaneously repulsed by the Titans than he already was.

He'd been wrong.

They'd all been wrong. So very, very wrong.

And now they were paying for it.


	2. Chapter 1

Armin's teeth clacked loudly as his horse galloped frantically away from the walls behind him, the hot air whipping his hair wildly, stinging his cheeks. His stomach clenched, fear and anxiety settling in his core, as he furrowed his brows in frenzied determination, his eyes darting frantically from the ground in front of him to the the satchel around his hip. The notes were safe. And they had to stay that way. Armin swallowed anxiously, his throat much to dry, as he tried to focus. They were the only records... Dr. Jaeger's records, about the titan epidemic, the most important documents on earth.

Eren's father, Dr. Grisha Jaeger, had been the only living person _known_ to have documented the best research material pertaining to the existence and origin of the Titans.

It had taken them so long to manage to find them. It had taken _so long,_ and cost so many lives.

But they'd managed it. They'd managed to get their hands on the research. But all it had told them was what they'd never wanted to believe: That they already _were _Titans.

Or at least, that those who were meant to survive were. Dr. Jaeger's notes had described, in ludicrously loving detail, a world in which humans evolved to become their hunters, that it had already begun.

The intelligent Titans were either genetically modified by scientists employed by top-secret government officials, or _Titan-born, _something no one had ever thought possible. And the others, the less intelligent...they were what was left of the humans who had been devoured. Most titans lacked the ability to reproduce, so they'd found another way to multiply. They consumed humans, viciously and with rigorous fervor. After coughing up the remains, due to lack of any true digestive system, the left-over humans mutated into that which had devoured them: They became Titans.

Titans killed and ate humans so that they in turn would become Titans, and continue eating and destroying the human-race, and in doing so, their numbers swelled.

Armin struggled to bite back his tears as he rode. There was little point in thinking about things now. He had to find Eren and Mikasa. He had to make sure they'd survived. That they'd made it through the ensuing chaos.

After their discovery, it hadn't taken very long for the more intelligent Titans to mobilize and attack. They'd turned back toward the walls again, and like that day so long ago, they had managed to breach them. But this time they'd had help. This time, there had been more Titans inside, waiting. They'd been lying in wait in misleading human forms, waiting for their opportunity to strike. Both the inner walls, Wall Sina and Rose, had been torn through in several spots. The only safety humankind had known for over a century had been compromised in a matter of hours.

Now, few people were left. Almost all of the Legion, and the rest of the military, had been wiped out in the counter-attack. They'd put up a good fight, but it had made little difference as wave after wave of the giant monsters continued to flood on through the walls on several sides. Amidst the confusion, he'd lost track of his friends, and now he had no idea where they were, or the their current physical states. For all he was aware of, they could be dead. His heart racing with barely restrained panic, Armin had hopped on the nearest remaining horse he could find. Now he made his way across the vast plains of grass outside wall Rose, completely vulnerable to attack, as he was forced to weave his way around large groups of Titans. He thanked whatever God or deity there might be that for whatever reason they'd payed little attention to him up until now. If only his luck could last a little longer...

In what appeared to be a cruel twist of fate, Armin's straining ears picked up the sounds and vibrations of large, unsteady earnest feet thundering somewhere behind him. Twisting his head around to assess the situation, Armin's eyes widened in apprehension as he was greeted by the ominous sight of a large, grinning Titan, with a gruesomely mishappen head, running clumsily toward him.

His eyes still fixed nervously on the Titan, Armin spurred his horse into picking up the pace, kicking so hard and frantically, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd inadvertantly bruised the poor creature.

As his horse's pace continued to quicken, Armin kept his focus fixated on the Titan behind him, trying as hard as he might to urge his steed on faster, and faster, practically stabbing the animal with his boot heels, until -

_Thwack!_

Armin suddenly found himself flying through the air, feeling dizzy as he was hurled headlong over his now tumbling horse. He heard a sickening _"crack!"_ echoe in his ears as he hit a large stone, his vision swimming before his eyes, and blood trickling down his face. As he he turned to see his horse lying several yards away, now un-moving, he became dimly aware of a large number of fairly large, loosely scattered boulders, realizing that they must have tripped up his fast-moving, panicked animal companion.

His head pounding in agony, he tried to shift his weight, feeling an abrupt and sharp, stabbing pain starting in his left shoulder and running all the way down to his wrist. He went rigid the moment he noticed a dark shadow looming over him. Every bone in his body protested loudly in pain, and he felt the cold grip of terror hover over his heart yet again as he strained to turn his injured and trembling face toward the massive shape behind him. He felt his breath catch in fear as his eyes met those of the huge, maniacally-grinning Titan hunched over him.

Armin tried to scream, he did. But no matter how much he urged it, no sound would come, as he continued to tremble beneath the shadow of the enormous colossus before him. It continued to leer menacingly at him , it's grin stretching ever farther upward, enhancing it's already unhinged and grotesque features. Armin swallowed thickly as he was stared down, his mind a jumble of colliding thoughts. It almosted looked as though it was enjoying his predicament. Was it intelligent? Was it tormenting him? Did it realize, just as Armin did, that even if he wanted to escape, there was nowhere for him to turn? Nowhere to go? What was it waiting for? How long would it wait? Any minute now, he told himself anxiously, any minute it could eat him, _Would_ eat him, it was simply a matter of -

**_Vwwwooorrp! Vwoooorrp! Vwwoooorrp!_**

Armin hissed in pain as his head snapped up at the strange, whirring sound, to witness a peculiar and bizarre scene, almost straight out of one of his old fairy-tale books. A large, flying blue box, looking to be made of some kind of wood, came spinning out of the sky toward them at high speed. Despite his own dire situation, Armin was unable to turn away as it twirled about, zooming straight at the Titan's large cranium.

_Wack!_

While something made of wood like that should have burst upon colliding with an object such as the head of the Titan, it instead knocked it with enough force to send the Titan reeling sideways, remaining completely intact.

As the titan fell to the ground in front of him, apparently unconcious for the time being, Armin found himself unable to tear his eyes from the strange and unusual sight of a flying blue box landing gracefully next to the immobile body of a giant Titan.

While he continued to gape, flabbergasted at the sight before him, Armin was treated with another unexpected surprise when a lanky, confused-looking man in an odd coat with long hair ambled clumsily out of an open door, smoke gushing out behind him.

He spun in place, glancing around bemusedly as he waved his hands about in an effort to dispel the smoke, coughing all the while mumbling to himself in an odd, foreign accent.

"What do you mean you don't know? How do you not know, you brought me here for pity's sake!" he'd shouted at the box, his arms thrown up in frustration.

He turned to Armin, shaking his head from side-to-side.

"I mean really, how doesn't she know? Clever thing like her? Of course she'd know! Wouldn't she?" he shot Armin an incredulous sort of look.

The awkward silence that followed as the man continued to stare at Armin expectedly prompted the boy to wonder if a response had been expected of him.

"Ummmm..." he grasped for an appropriate answer. What could possibly be considered proper in this sort of situation? "yes?" he rasped out, his throat still parched from his near-death encounter.

The man nodded approvingly and began turning back around to, Armin assumed, continue berating the box, when he abruptly spun back around to face Armin once more.

"I'm so sorry, but...where am I? If you don't mind my asking." the man added hastily.

As Armin considered how to best answer this inquiry, while still having difficulty concentrating due to his excruciatingly painful injuries, the man's face scrunched in irritation and he hit himself on the forehead.

"Oh my- how rude of me, I completely forgot- Introductions! You don't know me from Mr. Scary-eyes on the ground over there, do you?Ha-ha! And I've no idea who you are either at that! So!." he eyed Armin expectantly, hands clasped together as he swayed playfully on his feet, apparently waiting.

Armin continued to stare at him blankly.

The man folded his arms and brought one hand up to cup his own face thoughtfully. "Did you want to start?" he asked hopefully.

Blinking in confusion, Armin's brain finally caught up with him as he came to the sudden conclusion that the man wanted Armin to tell him his name. Despite the absurdity of their current situation, Armin managed to feel embarrassed at his own lack of manners and felt his cheeks flush hotly. His Grandfather would've cuffed him if he'd been around to see this.

He attempted to stand, using the boulder for leverage, wincing as he cradled his injured arm and straightened his shoulders, once again trying to dispel any remaining fear as he faced the unkown man with a tentative look.

" Armin." he choked out uncertainly "Armin Arlert."

The man seemed delighted to hear this and immediately inched cautiously closer, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Ah! Very good, very good Armin! That's a nice name! Very unusual name, although maybe not here, never know really, different customs everywhere. You know I once met someone whose name was just The Face o-" he came to an abrupt halt midway through. "I'm so sorry Armin, I do think I'm rambling again. Tends to happen to me a lot when I'm alone. Imagine it's because I assume there's someone listening even when there isn't anymore." At this, his eyes became distant as he gazed to the side distractedly for a moment. But he perked up again almost instantly and crept cautiously closer toward Armin, placing a thin hand over his chest, as though gesturing to himself in introduction.

"It's lovely to meet you Armin Arlert. I'm the Doctor." he finished smugly.

Before he could continue or say anything else, however, they found their conversation cut short by the sounds of distant rumbling.

Armins' heart quickened in his chest. 'Dammit.' he cursed himself.

He'd been so distracted by the strange flying box and it's odd inhabitant that he'd temporarily forgotten why he'd even been in a panic in the first place. And not only that, but with all the smoke the blue box had expelled, one of the Titans was bound to have noticed. They'd be here any minute. He never should have lingered.

As he began limping toward his injured horse, wondering idly how bad the damage to it might be, the Doctor appeared awkwardly at his shoulder, his head moving from side to side in apprehensive curiosity.

"So sorry Armin, I don't mean to be terribly rude but," he licked his lips anxiously "Could you tell me where I am and exactly what that very loud rumbly sound is?"

Armin's heart sank as he realized his horse would probably not be able to continue, and he turned to give the Doctor a response when he spotted the source of the thundering sounds.

He let out a resigned breath and looked at the Doctor, his eyes full of weariness. "We're about 20 kilometers outside wall Rose, the second line of defense out of the 3 walls that make up the last of humankind's safe haven from the Titans. And those, Doctor," here he paused and jerked his head in the direction behind them "Are the Titans."

As the Doctor slowly turned to follow Armin's line of sight, he faltered slightly as they were both met with the sight of at least 8, 15 meter tall Titans, only about 3 kilometers away, thundering straight toward them.


	3. Chapter 2

Armin had already begun attempting to focus on returning to the mission at hand, and was mentally calculating how long he had until the Titans would reach their current position and his resulting chances of survival, when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared expectantly.

He warily turned to find the Doctor dancing awkwardly behind him, a look of vague concern and uncertainty on his face, which, had Armin known the man better, he would've noted as unusual.

"So sorry Armin," he began tentaviley, licking his lips "But could you perhaps tell me - what exactly is going on?" His eyes darted to the Titans looming in the distance. "What planet am I on? What year is it?"

Armin felt himself let out a frustrated groan. Great. A looney. "Look," his eyes found the Doctors, and he attempted to politely, yet firmly stare the man down.

It was surprisingly difficult.

"I wish I could help you. I really do, especially as that used to be my job." he sucked in a calming breathe. "But, right now, I really need to find some people. Important people." Stalking determinedly passed the Doctor, Armin began collecting odd items from the horses saddle and stuffing them in his satchel, taking great care not to over-pack, as now that he would be on foot, he couldn't afford to lose any speed as a result of being weighed-down.

Taking mental stock of his inventory, Armin nodded, satisfied that he had all that he could currently afford to bring, and turned purposefully back to face the stranger again. " You should get out of here." he warned. "The Titans will be here any minute, and it may be a good idea to go ahead and start running, sooner rather than later, if you don't want to get eaten"

The Doctor's jaw hung open ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, but...eaten?" he scoffed.

Armin nodded solemnly. He felt mildly startled to see a look of intrigue on the man's face, rather than the much more common expression of terror.

Afraid of wasting what little time he may have left, Armin resolved not to spend any more time considering such things right now, and pulled up his hood, preparing to run as fast as his injuries would allow.

"Good luck Doctor," he tossed over his shoulder, letting out a huff of pain as he began jogging. "Safe journey to you."

Having already jogged a few yards away, Armin halted abruptly as heard a loud shout calling out to him from behind.

"Arlert!"

He turned, finding an anxious Doctor gazing at him intently, the man's brow creased in thought, looking from his box to Armin, and back again.

"How would you like a lift?" he yelled.

Armin felt a brow quirk in bemusement, despite their perilous situation.

"Lift?" he threw back.

The Doctor gave a small, mischievious smile and gestured enthusiastically at his strange blue box, sitting quietly several feet away, no longer billowing thick, grey smoke.

Armin Arlert let out a loud laugh despite himself. The box?! The box would take him to his friends? How on this good earth did the dotty man expect they would be safe in that -

The realization hit him suddenly.

He'd seen it. He'd seen the box flying in the air, despite all obvious scientific evidence that it shouldn't have been able. And he'd seen it hit a Titan at full-force and sustain no visible damage.

And, as he chanced a glance southward, the Titan's were coming, much closer now than they'd been only moments ago. He needed to get out of the open, if he had any chance of surviving at all.

These were the facts. These were the things Armin knew. He didn't have to hope. He only had to think, and he knew, no matter how absurd it might've been otherwise, that this man and his strange box, were his only shot at getting through this day alive.

Armin Arlert was no longer afraid, but that didn't mean he wanted to die just yet.

After hobbling as quickly as he could to the entrance of the odd box, ensuring his safety from the oncoming horde of Titans, Armin slowed to a stand-still as he was finally able to get a good look at the inside of it.

He felt his chest swell strangely as he was overwhelmed by the amazing sight before him.

The inside, it – it was bigger than the outside! He let his jaw hang open in awe as he spun around, trying to take it all in. It was enormous! And the whole interior was covered in strange mechanical devices, many of which had little lights blinking on and off repeatedly. Had he been in a generally less dangerous situation, Armin would've smiled excitedly.

It was the most magical thing he'd ever seen.

The Doctor spun around the central column hurriedly, pressing various buttons and cranking different levers, all the while shooting knowing looks at Armin.

"So," he began casually. "What do you think? Do you like it? It's -"

"It's amazing." Armin breathed out. He turned slowly to look at the Doctor, a mesmerized look on his face. "It's...the interior's a different size than the exterior."

The Doctor continued to stare at him, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "Andd...?"

The young man's mouth quirked ever so slightly upward. "It's bigger on the inside."

This response seemed to please the man, for he resumed his spinning aand lever-pulling with renewed fervor.

"Well, yes, I suppose it is that, isn't it? She is rather lovely. More so up close. And she still looks so young! Hasn't aged a day." He stroked a panel of the column lovingly and cooed "Have you darling?"

The machine began to whir loudly, and Armin felt himself lose his footing as the entire room jerked sideways slightly.

"Oh hush up! I was only giving you a compliment." he scolded.

He twisted his head to shoot Armin an exaggerated sigh. "poor thing, she's so wonderful, but I'm afraid she is prone to the odd temperment now and again." he paused and mumbled softly, almost as if to himself. " Us old things usually are."

Had he not been struggling so hard to keep his balance, and keep his shoulder from throbbing, Armin would've stared more shrewdly at him. He was certain that last statement had been said with some form of sadness, but it was hard to be sure when he was unable to focus properly.

After another few minutes of attempting to keep upright as the machine continued to jerk from side-to-side, and The Doctor twirling about messing around with various bits of the controls, Armin finally felt himself regain his equilibrium as they seemed to slow to a stop.

"Ah!" The Doctor exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly and grabbing onto the railing around the platform happily. "Looks as though we're finally safe, away from those pesky..." he tapped his chin thoughtfully and fixed Armin with a curious look. "I'm sorry, what exactly did you call them?"

Rubbing his shoulder worriedly, Armin stared at the Doctor, apprehension making itself known on his face.

"Titans." he replied warily.

The Doctor immediately nodded knowingly. "Ah! Yes! Titans! Of course. Nasty, ugly brutes aren't they? Why are they so nasty Armin? What did you humans do to upset them?"

Anger flared inside Armin's chest at the Doctor's, rather innocuous, inquiry, and he found himself filing the "you humans" comment away for future analysis.

"What did we do to them?" he hissed out dangerously in between gritted teeth "We existed! That's what!" He took a deep breathe to calm himself.

The Doctor folded his arms idly in deep thought, brows furrowed again. "Are you quite sure about that?" he asked softly.

Armin felt himself trembling with barely-restrained fury and indignation. It wasn't like him to get this upset. That was Eren's job. But Eren wasn't here right now, was he?

The thought of Eren brought Armin's thoughts back to the situation at hand.

He let out a deep, calming breathe. "Doctor, I can certainly promise you that we didn't start this." The lie came easily, unusual for Armin who had always been terrible at fibbing. In normal circumstances, he might've felt bad, but in the face of this smug, presumptious magic-man, he felt only the smallest twinge of guilt.

The Doctor seemed to find this answer acceptable, and turned about, busying himself with the machine once again. As the raggedy-looking man played with his shiny metal toys, Armin felt the anger and fury begin to ebb, to be replaced with feelings of confusion and worry.

After several moments of heavy silence, Armin finally spoke.

"Y-you really don't know?" he questioned hesitantly. "Anything? About the Titans? The walls? All the massacres?"

As the Doctor continued to hunch over the control panels, his focus completely fixated on his wonderful devices, Armin felt himself fall quiet at the realization.

He really didn't.

For whatever reason, this magical, crazy man, didn't know anything about his world.

This knowledge bothered Armin, on a deeper level then it should have.

Had he not been so desperate to find his family, he probably would've wanted to stay to glean whatever unique information he could from this strange man. But he simply didn't have the time right now. He had far more important things to worry about at the moment.

He cleared his throat in attempt to get the distracted man's attention.

"Well, I'm very sorry you seem to have become dragged into all this mess then." his back straightened, sending another shudder of pain through this arm. "I suppose I should thank you for saving me, and," he felt himself smile a bit "giving me a lift as well."

He turned on his heel, and strode toward the entrance. Reaching for the door, Armin chanced one last glance back at the man playing with metal parts and blinking lights, and felt himself smile solemnly. "Goodbye Doctor. Thank you, and Good luck with..." he grasped at something to say, but found he didn't actually know what the Doctor intended to do with himself now. Deciding it probably didn't matter all that much anyway, Armin turned back to the door, prepared to leave.

As his hand grasped the cool metal of the door-handle, he started upon hearing the Doctor call to him from the other side of the room.

"The door's locked."

Armin blinked stupidly and, as if to challenge the man's words, tried in vain to yank the door open. But it wouldn't budge. Armin gulped nervously.

"W-well could you please unlock it?" he asked, voice strained.

The man sighed, and turned to look at him, his head canted to the side in curious observation.

"Why?" he stated simply.

Armin almost choked, so startled was he by the man's question.

"Why?!" he replied incredulous. "Because I have to find my family. There's no time - !"

The Doctor shook his head, and scoffed.

"Oh don't worry, we have plenty of time." he leaned comfortably against his machine, arms grabbing onto the panel behind him.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

As Armin continued to gape at the man in disbelief, the Doctor clasped his hands together and hummed thoughtfully. "How about this Armin!" he smacked his lips together and said the name experimentally. "Ar-min, Ar-man, Armando! That's right, Armando! How about we call you Armando? Such a tough-sounding title, don't you think? Armandooooo. Really, really strikes ….well, I suppose 'fear' wouldn't really be good, would it? Into the hearts of others. Goodness knows I'm sure you could use that." he eyed Armin critically, rubbing his hands together idly. "Awful skinny aren't you. Especially for your age. How old are you Armando?" he asked casually.

Armin had never, in all his young life, had the desire to throttle someone as badly as he currently wanted to throttle this man right now.

"Hmmmm, I'm sorry Armando, I suppose I'm getting a bit carried away." he took a deep breathe and began approaching the cornered young man. "Here's the thing, Armando -,"

"Armin."

"I like Armando better. Now, Armando. I don't actually know where, or even when, I am, and as you can imagine in order to leave I must first have an accurate understanding of where I am now, SO!" he grinned wildly at Armin, having managed to creep quite close to his current position by the door without Armin having really noticed. "I would very much appreciate it if you could give me a few answers, dear boy." He spread his arms happily, spinning about again "Now, if you help me do that, than I will let you out of here." he paused dramatically.

"Unless of course you want to come with me."

Before Armin could respond properly, the Doctor was already bouncing away again, holding his face childishly. "I don't s'pose that would be much of a problem, it's been quite a while since I've had any company. Of course, you're bit of a different make than what I usually take with me, though I HAVE had some come along before, just not often you understand." here he smirked conspiratorially at Armin "The women just can't seem to resist me for some reason. It's probably the bow-tie.." At this, he adjusted his neckerchief. "Bow-ties are cool."

Finally, he spun back around to Armin and pinned him with, what he supposed was meant to be a friendly look, but really just made him appear somewhat uncertain.

"What do you say Armando?"

Armin collapsed against the door in frustration, completely overwhelmed by the energy of this insane individual in front of him. Armin favored his bottom lip as he leaned against the door, weighing his options. On the one hand, he had his maneuver gear, so he could always force his way out, even as ungifted as he was in the art of physical prowess. After all, he had swords. His eyes narrowed. But, he had no idea what this magic "Doctor" had. So far he hadn't shown any sign of carrying a weapon, but after what he'd seen, Armin wouldn't be surprised to find that the man's neckerchief could kill him somehow. On the other hand, he could coopoerate. The man hadn't shown any inclinations toward violence so far, and he had helped him once already. Maybe he could helop again? Armin frowned in irritation as he continued to sink deeper into thought, comparing the two options. The guy was clearly insane, but despite the madness his demands made quite a bit of sense logically. And so, It was with this thought in mind that, hanging his head in defeat, Armin brought his knees up to his chest a let out a deep breathe as he prepared to give the Doctor an abridged history lesson.

Setting his face into a stony and determined expression, Armin began.

"Let me tell you a story, Doctor."


	4. Chapter 3

The silence that greeted Armin as he finished his tale was a thoughtful one.

He was thankful for the quiet. After having talked for what had felt like hours, though it had probably been only half an hour, his throat felt sore, raw with emotion, and his hunched body ached with weariness.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a headache making itself known, awaiting the man's reaction.

"My dear Armando..."

Lifting his heavy head, Armin found himself face to face with the Doctor, the man crouching only centimeters away from him, a look of genuine understanding gracing his features. Armin fought the twinge of irritation that stirred at being called by the name 'Armando' yet again, but otherwise continued to stare at the man warily.

"You truly have seen and been through so much." the man muttered.

Armin's eyes widened slightly at the impressed tone of his voice.

"Too much." he breathed sadly.

Before he could respond, Armin found himself sitting next to the hunched, worn form of the dotty Doctor as the man plopped down beside him, a resigned sigh escaping his lips.

"Well," the man started uncertainly "I suppose that would explain my problem pretty well. I'm not in the right universe anymore..." The Doctor finished simply.

Armin furrowed his brows in confusion as he turned to observe the man curiously.

"Not in...the right...universe...?" he repeated experimentally.

The Doctoe turned to fix him with a sad smile, his eyes strained. "Yes Armin." Armin felt surprised to hear his own name as he was addressed. "The universe is a vast and wonderful place, filled with galaxies upon galaxies which are, in turn, filled with Solar systems and planets and other wonderful things." He took a deep breathe. "However," he continued slowly "Where there is one universe, there are others." he turned to the boy with knowing eyes, full of a wisdom and experience Armin had seldom seen in anyone else's.

"Parallel universes. Other worlds. Existing simultaneously alongside this one, and others."

Armin's brows furrowed deeper. "I-I'm not sure I follow...?"

The man huffed in frustration. "Think about it like this Armando.: imagine a town. Now, in that town, you have various people, certain customs and social structures, and people going about their daily activities. Eating, drinking, laughing. Watching Telly. Just, average everyday things." he paused again, licking his lips. "Now, picture another village, just across a river from that, only a hop, skip and a jump away. But! In this village, no one can talk! In this village, people still do many of the same things, but without the ability to communicate verbally! And of course, that little difference means that some customs and rules and practices will be different than the other village, do you understand?" he asked Armin carefully.

Armin felt himself nodding along as he processed this information at lightning speed in spite of his pounding head. "So..." he bit his lip thoughtfully, straining to piece it all together. "You're saying that, outside of my world, the place where I live now, the whole environment and earth itself, is another world. More worlds, like ours, but slightly different? Ones..." he gulped apprehensively "ones where, titans don't exist even?"

The Doctor eyed him appraisingly. "You're rather quick on the uptake, for someone living in an alternate, pre-age-of-enlightenment world." Armin imagined there had probably been a compliment in there somewhere.

He cleared his trhoat. "But yes. Yes that is the basic idea. The problem is..." he chewed the inside of his cheek worriedly "say that village across from the other village, they're separated by that river." he swallowed a bit heavily. "Imagine for a moment, that that river goes on forever, never ending, going on and on. And nowhere over that river is a bridge, because it's too wide. SO." he clicked his tongue. "So, there's no way for anyone from one village to cross from one village into another. They just continue to sit right next to each other, separated only by a flowing body of water, and live in completely separate worlds."

"So..." Armin's mind attempted to wrap around what the Doctor was telling him. " basically you're stuck here?" As he began to mull over how horrible a fate that would be for any person, a thought occurred to him.

"Wait." he began haltingly "If you can't cross to the other worlds..." he looked at the Doctor in slight awe, more confused than ever before "then, how did you end up here?"

"Holes."

Armin's brow quirked in inquiry. "Holes?"

The man nodded in confirmation. "Yep. Holes." He turned back to face Armin once more. "These universes sometimes have holes ripped into them, which allow people with the ability, such as myself, to travel between the worlds. But," he paused and screwed up his eyes in deep thought "holes don't just appear out of nowhere. They have to be caused by something. Something or someone opened a hole in time and space attempting to come here."

Armin vaguely wondered what sort of person would ever want to come to a world like this, when the Doctor voiced the same idea.

"Or leave here."

As they sat in oddly comfortable silence, Armin's mind turned over everything he had learned in the last few hours, trying to weave together a picture from all of the loose threads of information.

The Doctor wasn't from here, from his world. Other worlds apparently existed outside of his own. Worlds without Titans was a distinct possibility. But the worlds could not be traveled between. Not unless there were holes. And even then, you needed to have the ability to travel between them, which he lacked.

His eyes slid to the fidgety man next to him.

The Doctor had the ability. He'd already offered to take Armin with him, hadn't he? Or had that been in jest? It was difficult to tell where the Doctor was concerned, that much Armin already knew for sure. And If he could truly leave, did that mean Armin could actually leave this horrible nightmare? Could he actually...?

But what about Eren and Mikasa? Would they be willing to go with him?

He'd always wanted to see the world outside the wall. He'd wanted to see the vast oceans of salt-water, and lakes of fire. It had never occurred to him that those things, and more, might actually exist somewhere else.

A stray thought at the back of his mind continued to nag Armin as he pieced together a greater picture. He was still missing a piece.

"Can you really leave and travel back to your wor- I mean, universe?" he questioned.

The Doctor jumped a bit, apparently startled by the question. He must've forgotten Armin was there beside him, lost as he was in his own musings.

"Of course! I am a Time-lord after all! And a Time-lord with a TARDIS can do almost anything." he stated, a hint arrogance in his voice.

Armin had only understood about half of that statement, failing to recognize what either 'Time-lord' or 'TARDIS' meant. But he did catch the important bit. Only one thing left to know.

Choosing his next words with caution, Armin asked "After leaving, would you be able to come back?"

He pinned the Doctor with a hard stare, needing to hear for himself what he already suspected.

The man actually squirmed a bit under his gaze.

"No." he said finally. "I wouldn't."

Armin's stare narrowed. "Why?"

The man met Armin's gaze with more certainty, prepared this time. "I can't because.." he seemed to be looking for the words when Armin interrupted, rendering whatever the man had been about to say useless.

"You have to close up the hole don't you?"

The Doctor's brows rose in pleasant surprise. "Yes..." he leaned in, eyeing Armin suspiciously.

"How did you know? Not that it's that difficult to figure out really but...Most people can't seem to grasp the concept unless I spell it out for them."

Armin looked down at his scraped hands, his thoughts finally coming together as he spoke.

"Holes are generally a problem wherever they appear." he shrugged and said this matter of factly.

"If you leave them alone, they could deteriorate and worsen with time. Same thing can happen if you mess with them the wrong way. The best thing to do would be to seal it up and be done with it. I don't really know what that would mean for any different universe and such, but chances are..." he turned back to meet the Doctor's eyes with a knowing gaze this time. "if they were kept apart in the first place, and that much effort is naturally being put into keeping them that way, then I suppose they weren't meant to be accessible to each other."

They were silent for a beat, both staring intently at the other, when the Doctor let out a loud bark of laughter, causing Armin to jump slightly in alarm.

His head tilted back ecstatically, the Doctor slapped his knee jovially and put a good-natured arm around Armin's shoulders.

"My dear Armando," Armin fought the urge to twitch at the name. "You really are smart as a whip aren't you, you young thing!" He placed an enthusiastic kiss on Armin's crown, causing the young man to sputter and blush indignantly. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, seeing as how you've spent most of your life around walls, but even so...that may be one of the first times someone has been able beat me to my own explanation! Good job!" Armin continued to fidget uncomfortably under the praise. It wasn't under-appreciated, but Armin was incredibly self-conscious at the best of times, and the fact that this praise and affection was coming in the form of a stranger made it all the more difficult to process.

The young soldier rubbed his head distractedly. "So, when you leave you're gonna close up the holes then?" he tested.

The Doctor nodded his response. "Don't have much of a choice really. If I leave it open, there's no telling how many other strange things could get in." he looked at Armin knowingly. "Or out, for that matter."

Armin hummed in agreement. "Guess once you leave I won't ever see you again than will I?"

The Doctor went still, his face settling into an expression of apprehension.

"Armin..." he started carefully "you never answered me before. How old are you?"

Armin felt himself fidget under the strange look the Doctor was giving him, finding himself uncomfortable with the question.

"I- I think I turned 16 two months ago, Doctor." he said honestly.

"You think?" he asked. His expression turned to one of sadness. "Only 16..."

For some reason he couldn't quite explain, Armin felt discomfort coil in the pit of his stomach, as though he were a child being informed by strangers that they were sorry his parents had died.

Looking into the Doctor's face as he pondered it, he found his answer sitting plain as could be in the Doctor's beady eyes.

It was Pity.

He pitied Armin, and while Armin felt a rush of indignant anger at this, he could not truly blame the man for doing so. He probably would have pitied him too,were he in the Doctor's position.

Deciding it was better to dispel the uncertain air hovering over them now rather than later, Armin shifted, doing his best to stand.

It was time for him to leave.

As he stood up, brushing the crinkles out of his pants, he gazed pointedly at the Doctor, his shoulder squared once again.

"Well, I held up my end of the deal." he bit out, perhaps a bit more curtly than intended. "I think it's time you held up your end, Doctor."

The man looked up at him in surprise, his face registering brief confusion before shifting into danwing realization.

"Oh? OH! Oh, oh, dear me of course you're right!" he forced out a laugh. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that. A deal is a deal after all." He stood, stretching his limbs upward as he did so, and waltzed toward the control panels.

"Now, where did you need to go?"

* * *

Armin felt himself being forcefully pitched forward as the strange machine, the TARDIS he was pretty sure it was called now, came to an abrupt halt after repeatedly rocking back and forth. Rolling his head experimentally, he righted as his center of gravity stabilized once more. He wasn't sure he understood how any person could quite get used to all this rough jerking to-and-fro.

He snorted at this thought. This coming from someone who'd had to learn to use 3-d maneuver gear. Ridiculous.

As Armin inspected himself for any visible damage, the Doctor powered down the central controls, leaning heavily on the console. He squinted at a tiny box with moving pictures placed just above the console.

"Well here we are..I think...you did say to head south-east yes?" he breathed uncertainly.

Armin nodded briskly in rseponse. "Yes. I'm not completely positive, but I think they may have been heading in this direction to re-join with a small number of reinforcements at Wall Maria."

Looking around him, Armin began striding, as well as he was able, toward the door of the TARDIS.

"I just hope I haven't wasted too much time." he mumbled.

The Doctor made a scoffing noise and hit one of the many levers on the central pillar. "Oh my dear Armando. Do you really think I didn't think of that." He lifted his wrist to glance at the odd mechanism wrapped around it "We should be back just a few minutes after I ran into you." he chuckled. "Literally."

Armin felt his jaw drop slightly in awe, but closed it immediately and shook his head when he realized it was pointless to be surprised by anything the man was able to do at this point.

He gave The Doctor a small, grateful smile.

"Well, I guess this is it then." His face became solemn. "Goodbye Doctor. I truly hope you are able to leave. I wouldn't wish a Titan's death on anyone. Especially someone so...interesting."

He moved forward a few steps and stuck out his hand expectantly. The Doctor shuffled closer, eyeing the proferred appendage warily for a moment before finally relaxing and grasping it firmly, giving a great shake.

"You could come with me you know." he said, his voice almost sad now.

Armin stiffened a bit as he withdrew his hand. He considered the Doctor's words. He'd already thought it over. A part of him, the more idealistic, young and bold-hearted Armin, very much wanted to take him up on the offer. He knew whatever waited outside this world had to dwarf the awesomeness of whatever lay in his, without question. But, he had a family to look out for. He couldn't leave without them. Especially if he'd never be able to return again.

He turned back around toward the entrance, waving his hand over his shoulder in casual dismissal. "Afraid I can't. This is my home Doctor. This is where I belong." he stated simply. Placing his hand on the door handle, Armin chanced one last glance back at the Doctor, standing awkwardly on his walkway, seeming small in the vast room full of strange machinery.

"Goodbye Doctor. Thank you."

And before he had the opportunity to regret it, Armin was pulling open the door and walking out into the open air.

He came to a halt after several meters, horror and despair painting his features as he took stock of the scene before him.

Several meters away, just inside the Wall Maria, Armin could make out a group of Titans. But even more worrying was the sight of an enraged Eren in Titan form, violently squeezing and swinging about an almost unconscious Mikasa, the bodies of their comrades littered about in bloody piles around them.


	5. Chapter 4

Somewhere in the very dark recesses of Armin's mind, he wasn't surprised things had ended this way.

Eren and Mikasa had always been connected by something unique and special. The three of them together had made quite a happy trio, sharing in each other's fears, hopes, dreams and sharing an understanding between friends that many would've been envious of.

Together, they were a family.

But something about Eren and Mikasa's relationship had always remained unreachable to Armin, leaving him hovering at the edge of the precious circle they'd formed. They had never been lovers, but they both felt some un-explainable attachment to the other that neither one could ever really explain, even to Armin. But they didn't need to. Armin had understood. He'd somehow realized, without ever trying, that as important as he was to them and they to him, that he would never be able to quite share in their unique connection. It hadn't bothered him though. It had been enough to be thought of as part of their family.

It had never occurred to Armin that they would abandon him like this.

As Armin had rushed to help Mikasa in her struggle to escape Eren's grasp, he hadn't even thought about what she might do to save them both.

Frantic, he had picked up his hobbled pace as he saw her spot him, relief at first visible on her face.

When it shifted into one of sad resignation, he'd panicked and switched to his 3-d maneuver gear, the gas sending him flying clumsily toward them.

As he'd gotten closer, Eren's Titan form had noticed him approaching, and turned slightly, his arm pulled back and prepared to meet him with deadly force.

That was all the distraction Mikasa had needed. While Armin continued to speed toward them at full momentum, unintentionally keeping Eren's attention focused completely on him, she'd expertly sliced Eren's fingers open.

Roaring in pain, Eren had flung her out of his then decapitated hand in pain. Any lesser person would've been unable to shift their weight and avoid flying headlong into a building or the ground at deadly speeds. Mikasa had never been a normal person. She may as well have been born a soldier.

Soaring forcefully though the air, she'd twisted her torso, righting herself, and spinning gracefully around Eren's head as she used the gas and grip-hooks in her 3d maneuver gear to aid her. Before he'd been able to react, Eren's head snapped forward as Mikasa shot her grip-hooks into his shoulders, never faltering as she ruthlessly and decisively spun toward his backside, blades drawn.

Armin's breathe caught in his throat, blood pounding in his ears as he failed to shout at her to stop.

And then, without any visible expression of remorse, she'd sliced him open, cut out a large, deep chunk of Eren's neck.

Armin had waited anxiously for steam to pour out of the opening, allowing an unconscious Eren to burst forth from the wound, hurt but intact.

It never came. There was only the blood, and then Eren had fallen forward, slamming hard into the ground, and lay still, steam erupting all around him.

Landing just beside the massive, un-moving and quickly deteriorating body, he had stumbled in shock as his knees hit the ground hard. Sitting there, he proceeded to stare at the lifeless form before hi as it crumbled into dust, his mind refusing to accept what he already knew to be true. As he continued to stand there, his body refusing to move, Mikasa landed softly beside the decaying body of their closest friend, her back to Armin.

"Armin..." he'd heard her say softly.

He'd continued to gape wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief.

"Armin," she'd repeated, more forcefully this time.

Finally, Armin had forced himself to look at her.

Staring at her stoic form in shock, he'd felt his mouth beginning to function again, unable to stop the words as they started pouring from his mouth, tears already making their way in rivers down his face.

"MIKASA, WHAT DID YOU DO?!" he'd screamed, his voice raw with emotion. "WHAT DID YOU DO?! WHY?! WHY DID YOU DO THIS, MIKASA? WHY WOULD YO -"

"ARMIN!"

Tensing at the volume and demand in her voice, Armin had felt surprise as he realized she had actually turned to look at him.

His breathe had caught heavily in his throat, once again. As he looked at her, he'd realized she was looking at him with the most pain-filled expression of sorrow he'd ever seen her use before. Staring into her watery eyes, Armin's shoulders had slumped in realization.

She'd done it because she'd had no other choice.

Mikasa had never lifted a finger to harm Eren except on rare occasions. Those occasions had only ever served to keep him from endangering himself and others.

This had been one of those times.

He had lost control of the Titan form. Judging from all the lifeless bodies of other Scouting Legion soldiers scattered around them, Armin had guessed he must've gone on quite some rampage. Knowing Mikasa, and her fondness for Eren, he was sure she'd done everything in her power to bring him out of it.

But even Mikasa had been powerless, he supposed.

Before either one had been able to speak, the sound of nearby rumbling and crashing alerted them to the presence of the other, forgotten Titans.

Armin swallowed, and still shaking, had forced himself to walk forward.

"M-Mikasa," he'd struggled, his lips trembling and his mouth dry. "We -We have to leave. We-We can't defeat this many Titans. The only thing -"

"No." she'd answered.

He'd stilled, his resolve beginning to waver. "N-No?" his breathing had quickened. "Mikasa, what – what are y -?"

She'd interrupted him, fixing him with dead eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere." she'd stated.

Armin's rational thought had begun to leave him as he struggled to understand. "WHY?! WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY DO NOW?!" he'd heard himself yell deperately.

She'd walked closer to him, a strange air of calm radiating from her presence, while all around them Armin could hear the sounds of destruction getting louder. She stopped a foot away from him, staring at him with hollow eyes.

"It's over, Armin." her voice was bereft of any emotion as she spoke. "We've lost." her maneuver gear crashed to the ground on either side of her. "We don't need to fight anymore."

Armin's head shook fervently from side-to-side, insisting she was mistaken. "NO! WE CAN"T GIVE UP MIKASA!" he'd wavered "We-We might still have a chance..."

He'd felt fresh tears slide down his face as a gentle hand cupped his face with calloused fingers.

"Armin."

Lifting his face, he'd been met with the steely face of Mikasa smiling sadly at him, her eyes shining with un-shed tears."The world, is a terrible and cruel place, and It's time for us to leave it now, Armin." She'd pulled him closer, wrapping her other arm around his middle. " It's finally time to leave it.""

As she'd pulled him in, Armin had found himself forgetting they were in a war-zone. He'd forgotten their friends were dead. That they were the last ones left. His mind had become fuzzy, filled only with thoughts of warmth, the scent of copper, and feelings of security.

So lost was he in their embrace, that his mind had failed to register the brief feeling of metal against his arm, or the strange feeling of steel at the nape of his neck.

"It's time to go be with Eren again."

It would be so nice to see everyone again, he'd thought headedly.

His eyes closing wearily, Armin had idly wondered if maybe even the Doctor would be there too...

Armin's mind stirred hopefully.

The Doctor...

His eyes had snapped open. The Dootor!

That was it!

If the Doctor was still around, they could go find him. Then they'd be able to escape together and they could -

H'de begun to pull away from Mikasa's warm embrace.

"Mikasa! Wai-!"

SNKKKT!

He'd heard it before he felt it. The sound of cold steel piercing flesh, as a sharp 3d maneuver gear sword pierced through his shoulder.

As he'd leaned away from Mikasa, arms clinging to both shoulders, Armin felt cold dread overwhelm him. The blade running through his body had also completely run through Mikasa's neck.

She'd collapsed against him, blood seeping though her clothes and staining his own, completely still now, the blood gushing from her wound blending in with the deep scarlet of her always-present scarf.

"M-Mikasa..." he whispered hoarsely.

What began as gentle cradling quickly spiraled into violent shaking as Armin tried desperately to rouse his companion.

No.

Nononono, Please NO!

An incomparable sense of despair seized Armin and filled him up then and in that moment he let out all the sorrow and anger and frustration into a screeching howl of agony.

"MIKASAAAAAAA!"

* * *

Armin sat sprawled on the ground, his back leaning heavily against the rotted wood of the building behind him. Shoulders hunched forward, his yellow hair hung limply in his face, blood spattered across his chin and cheeks, he gripped Mikasa's scarf tightly in his clenched fist. Blood covered his clothes, the wound in his shoulder continuing to seep blood as he opted to neglect it.

It didn't matter anyway, he thought numbly. He glanced over at the lifeless and dissolving bodies of his only family, eyes dull.

Nothing mattered anymore. Whether he died from Mikasa's failed mercy-killing wound, or from being eaten by a Titan, it didn't matter anymore. Either way his fate was sealed. He was going to die.

He felt cool tears stream down his face as he began to laugh. It was a manic, unhinged laugh, the kind usually indicitive of a broken mind. That thought only made him laugh harder, causing him to wheeze breathlessly. A broken mind...he gripped his face desperately. He was definitely broken. Without family or some sort of purpose, he was broken. Busted. Useless.

Just what he'd always feared becoming.

His breathing hitched from laughing too hard, and Armin cocked his head slightly as he felt the ground shake noticeably around him and heard the telltale sound of large footsteps approaching.

The titans were coming to finish him off, he observed casually.

His time was almost up. Armin glanced down to his lap, eyes raking over the small broken blade in his lap. He picked it up and bent it playfully, eliciting a small, humorless chuckle as he watched it 'boing' back when he let go. Placing the cool steel against his left wrist, he glared at it intently, preparing himself for the inevitable. As he closed his eyes in anticipation, wondering distractedly if it would hurt, his ears were filled with the loudly growing sounds of the Titans' foot-steps.

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as he took a deep breathe.

Well, he supposed it was now or never.

Vrrrrooooorrp, Vrooooorrrrppp, Vrrrroooooorrrrppp.

Armin struggled to lift his head, his face turning in the direction that he'd heard the sound.

Was that -?

A bright light flooded his vision. Squinting against the blinding light, he forced his eyes to focus properly.

The blurry, back-lit form of The Doctor appeared before him, leaning out of the open door of the TARDIS, his arm outstretched.

"Take my hand, Arlert." he heard him command.

Tears prickled at the edge of Armin's eye-sight, and his heart un-clenched.

Was it time? Had the Doctor come to take him away at last? Was he finally dying?

He felt relief at the thought.

"Doctor..."

He reached out his hand, leaning forward.

"I think I'm ready." he breathed calmly.

Closing his eyes, Armin felt warm flesh clasp his hand as he was pulled forward into the unknown.


	6. Chapter 5

The first thing Armin became aware of other than darkness was a steady, repetitive beeping sound.

While floating though an apparently endless void, wondering if he truly was dead, he'd begun to hear a soft sort of blip somewhere in the vastness around him.

It was soft, distant at first, and seemed to occur every few seconds consecutively, never increasing or decreasing in pace or rythym. Curious, as he had very little else to do while floating listlessly through the void, Armin began trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Feeling as though it were getting closer, he homed in on the sound, hearing it become louder the harder he strained to find it's source.

As he felt himself getting steadily closer, he began to pick up other odd sounds as well. Murmured voices. Shuffling feet. Creaking mattress. Finally, Armin was rewarded for his persistence as he was greeted with the appearance of a very small sliver of light. He began racing toward it anxiously, desperate to escape from this suffocating nothingness.

It became bigger and bigger the closer he got, widening and widening until finally he found himself looking at the blurry surroundings of a strange room.

Blinking heavily, it occurred to Armin that he was laying on some sort of stiff white cot. Looking about himself, inspecting the foreign equipment all around the room, he noticed several familiar, though slightly altered medical tools. He felt realization dawn on him as he concluded that he must've been in some sort of medical facility, albeit one unlike any he had ever seen.

Looking to his left, Armin identified the beeping sound he'd heard in the void being emitted from some strange machine with a moving image, that appeared to be hooked to him via a series of wires.

In addition to the wires running from his body to the noisy box, there also seemed to be a tube running from the inside of his left arm to a bag full of clear-looking liquid attached to a hook next to his cot.

He leaned back and let out a small frustrated sigh.

So he was still alive, he thought with a surprising amount of disappointment.

He worried the inside of his cheek. So that meant...The Doctor...he'd really...

"Well looky here, looks like our little Armando's finally awake!"

He cringed at the familiar nickname and condescending voice.

Glancing up, Armin's suspicions were confirmed as he was greeted to the sight of a harried-looking Doctor, jacket conspicuously absent, hovering awkwardly at the door.

Armin's face tightened in inexplicable agitation as the man danced forward carefully.

"Doctor." he dipped his head slightly, forcing himself to acknowledging the man's presence.

He felt the mattress beneath him sink as the lanky madman placed himself on the edge of the cot, turning to face Armin, hands clasped together in the manner with which Armin had become familiar.

"So..." he eyed Armin cautiously. "How do you feel Old boy?"

In response, Armin felt himself attempt to sit up, only to be treated to a sharp stitch in his shoulder.

"I've been better" he hissed.

The Doctor nodded back sagely.

"Yes, well, getting stabbed through the chest with a sword will do that to a person."

He scrunched his face in thought. "Or, at least, to a human. Other creatures tend to vary, but USUALLY, they have vital arteries also running through their shoulders, so for MOST I imagine it could be near-fatal or at least dire if they were to be -"

"Doctor."

" - stabbed." The man's mouth shut abruptly and his gaze met Armin's. "Yes, what is it?"

Armin sucked in a calming breath. "Where am I?" he asked casually.

The question prompted an expected response from the Doctor. He averted his eyes, mouth setting into a grim line as he fidgeted with the suspenders over his shirt.

"You're...in another world." he began slowly. "Another Earth, but in this one, modern medicine has advanced enough to properly treat your injuries. And" he hesitated for a split-second "Where Titans don't exist."

He sighed, letting out the breathe he'd been holding.

"So...It all really happened than." he stated quietly.

The Doctor was silent for a moment. "Yes."

He fisted the sheets beneath his covers. "My friends are really dead..."

The silence was longer this time, as the Doctor seemed to be weighing his words.

"I'm...afraid so Armin, yes."

Armin could feel the lump forming in his throat. "And the hole? In...in the" he struggled to remember that conversation they'd had, seemingly so long ago

"the universe? Have you sealed it?"

Somehow, he'd already expected the Doctor's answer. "Yes. Yes I have."

The lump trembled, urging Armin to cry. But he wouldn't. Not just yet anyway. "And, when I thought I was about to die..." he swallowed, forcing the lump down. "When I was, preparing to die, you took me away..."

He turned, his steel-blue eyes boring into The Doctor's "You kept me from dying."

The other man's eyes widened in shock, the full implications of what Armin meant with that statement hitting him suddenly.

And for a moment, remorse filled his eyes. A split-second later however, it was gone, replaced by anger, his face turning stony.

"You say I 'kept' you from dying..." he laughed softly, strangely void of humour. "That's funny. The way you say it, it almost sounds like I didn't save your life. Almost as though." his eyes narrowed shrewdly " you wanted to die."

Armin's indifferent expression did not change. "I did." He said without hesitation.

His careful self-control vanished, however, the instant the Doctor lunged at him suddenly, forcing Armin back as far as he could lean into his pillow. The Doctor's face hovered only centimeters from his own, eyes full of fire and something else Armin failed to identify in his alarmed state. His hands snaked out to clasp either side of Armin's face in a vice-like grip, forcing him to meet those terrifying eyes.

"No. No Arlert!" He barked, more harshly than Armin would've thought possible for such a normally childish person. "You listen to me, now. I said LISTEN!"

Armin felt himself cease struggling in the combined face of such loud talk and the man's strong grip, begrudgingly allowing him the opportunity speak unimpeded.

"You, my dear young man, should never wish to die." he said, voice low now. "You are far too intelligent, and hopeful for that. Do you really think that dying, giving up so easily would solve any of your problems?"

He prepared to retort, but found himself cut-off as the Doctor plowed onward, not giving him the chance.

"Do you have any idea what kind of things you would miss out on?" Armin remained silent for a moment, the Doctor's words beginning to reach him through his haze of self-pity.

"In that story you told me," he continued, licking his lips anxiously "You told me of a young boy and his friends. An intelligent, curious, bright young lad who's only dream had been to see things he'd never seen before. Whose dream was to visit snow-fields of sand, and burning water. And the ocean."

Armin blinked, his mind finally registering all of the Doctor's words and their meaning. He had wanted to see it, hadn't he? With Eren and Mikasa...

He frowned, his brows furrowed in thought as he struggled with several conflicting ideas and feelings.

As Armin tried to sort out his thoughts, the Doctor's tone softened, the grip on Armin's face loosening.

"Because you see Armin, if you hadn't lived...You never would've gotten to see the ocean you so badly wanted to see." he said.

Armin lifted his face in confusion. "But – I still haven't seen the ocean. "

The Doctor grinned, his eyes dancing.

"Would you like to, Armin?"

* * *

It had been quite a hassle trying to move Armin while he was still injured and attached to several machines via different groups of wires and tubes. In the end they'd had to carefully remove the attachments from his body, so that he could move about freely. Armin had been wary of doing this, as it seemed to crucial in keeping him alive, but The Doctor insisted that he knew what he was doing and that as long as he could keep an eye on the injured boy, he'd be fine. To make things easier, they waited till evening to make their escape so as to avoid as little interaction as possible with any of the hospital staff and any ensuing questions and interrogation. The Doctor had managed to rig the beeping device to continue emitting the same beeping sound even while Armin was not connected, hoping it would keep anyone's suspicions low. Armin hadn't been able to see exactly what it was he'd done to it, as the man's back had obstructed his view. He had, however, been able to make out a strange whirring sound as he'd had fiddled with it, but whatever it had been was quickly shoved back into his coat pocket before Armin could venture a guess as to what it had been.

Shuffling through the near-vacant cooridoors, The Doctor spinning on up ahead of him in a show of "scouting", Armin felt a vague sense of unease settle over him.

Had he been less anxious to get up and move about, he would've felt much more guilty about leaving his bed. He knew it probably wasn't a good idea to get up and walk around this soon after receiving a terrible injury, and he was sure if any of the medical staff noticed he was gone, there would be a frantic search to locate him but even so. He lifted his chin in a show of determination. The Doctor's offer, about seeing the ocean, it was just too appealing to pass up. Armin feared to hope but, as he hobbled carefully behind the Doctor, Mikasa's scarf wrapped around his neck, he forced himself to remember why it was so important. He had to see it. He had to do it. For his friends.

And maybe, just maybe, a small part of Armin still dared to hope because, deep down, he wanted to see it too.

They finally reached a supply closet just around the corner of their fourth cooridoor, when the Doctor halted abruptly and turned to gesture at the closet door, placing a finger to his lips in a plea for silence. Receiving an affirmitive nod from Armin, he proceeded to reach into his now mysteriously present coat. This time, Armin clearly saw him pull out a small strangely shaped tool of some kind.

It was long, and slightly bulky, made of something like brass or copper with a blue light at the tip, able to fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Armin watched and looked on in interest as the Doctor pointed it at the door handle, pressing a button along the shaft and emitting a soft whirring for a few brief seconds before eliciting a popping sound from the door. Flipping the device in his hand in triumph, The Doctor grabbed the door-handle and easily pushed the closet door open, his face smug. "Impressed yet?" he asked.

Despite his fitful mental state and The Doctor's returning arrogance, Armin found himself immensely curious about the odd trinket. "What is that?" he asked. The Doctor leaned on the door in a show of superiority. "Oh this? This is just my oh-so handy-dandy, useful, multi-purpose Sonic Screwdriver!" He kissed the metal gratefully. "Comes in quite handy from time-to-time. Everyone should have one!" Armin quirked a brow skeptically. "A screwdriver?" he asked, somewhat disappointed. The Doctor bristled "That's Sonic Screwdriver to you Mr. know-it-all! Do you have something against Screwdrivers eh Armando?" he responded haughtily.

Armin felt himself cringe inwardly to hear the ridiculous nickname return. "Not particularily." he mumbled. "Can I touch it?" he asked with some amount of barely-contained earnestness.

The Doctor immediately shoved it back into his coat-pocket, patting the spot almost protectively.

"Of course not! They don't just give Sonic screwdrivers to anybody you know! These are very sensitive tools, and can be dangerous in the wrong hands!" he sniffed "You travel with me for a bit and maybe you'll get your own!"

Armin's face fell into a slight pout. "I didn't know I was the 'wrong hands'." he huffed.

The Doctor, smiled slightly. "Well alright, not the wrong hands necessarily." he shot Armin another smug look. "Just not in the less intelligent ones." he smirked.

It was Armin's turn to bristle, huffing indignantly as he followed after the Doctor into the supply closet.

"I'm not so sure I'm the less intelligent one here."

Stepping into the TARDIS for the second time, Armin felt less apprehension upon entering such a strange environment, and once again felt himself overcome with an immense feeling of awe. With no immediate peril threatening his life or those he loved, he took more time to look around him, taking it upon himself to closely inspect as much of it as he was able. He found it proved to be a suitable distraction from his morose thoughts, at the very least.

As he scrutinized a particularly curious-looking series of levers, Armin felt a question spring to mind.

"So, are we really just going to leave without thanking the staff that took care of me?" he asked, vaguely aware that the Doctor was only partially listening, as he devoted his attention to the "ship's" controls.

"Hmm? Sorry?"

Armin turned around and sighed in exasperation, watching as the Doctor continued to fiddle with some sort of device next to the blue lever that Armin now realized must be some sort of control stick.

"I'm asking," he started, with all the patience of a tired parent "If we intend to come back to the hospital after this little outing." His mind began running over various scenarios. "After all, I'm not completely healed yet. It probably wouldn't do me any good to go gallivanting off with a strange man when my wounds are still sore. Especially when said man isn't actually a real Doctor. And, I can't imagine they'll be very glad to see a patient gone missing." He waited for a response, hand playing distractedly with the ends of the scarf now thrown over his shoulders.

The Doctor continued to adjust parts of his machine, sparing only a quick glance in his guest's general direction as he chewed his bottom lip in thought.

"No, no of course we'll come back. Wouldn't do any good to have you start bleeding all over my ship now would it?" his face took on a disgusted look. "Ick. Human blood. So disgusting. How do you all live with such nasty, viscous liquid running through your bodies?" He shuddered. "Thank goodness I 'll never have to deal with it." he hummed thoughtfully."And what do you mean by 'Not a real Doctor?! Ha! I'll have you know I was fully qualified as a Doctor of space-time physics back on Galifrey! Not a real Doctor. Ha!" he scoffed.

"No, besides," he twirled his Sonic Screwdriver, pointing it at one of his control panels as it emitted more of those odd buzzing sounds. "She'd kill me if she found out I took a patient without asking." he grinned smugly "Even if it is me."

Armin's face scrunched in question. "She? Who's -?"

The floor beneath Armin jerked suddenly, cutting him off before he could finish as he clung to one of the TARDIS controls, trying desperately not to lose his balance in his already damaged state.

"Looks like we're already here! And in no time at all, oh you sexy thing you really are just the fastest mode of transport in the universe!" The Doctor leaped up and clapped his hands excitedly, running toward the door as he threw a kiss at the interior of his ship.

"Come along now Armando, we haven't got all -" he paused and smiled sheepishly "well, come to think of it, I suppose we do have all day don't we?" he laughed. "We have all the time in the world!"

Armin approached him warily, holding his injured side protectively as he walked. "Does your ship always have to land like that?" he asked a bit shortly. "I'm an injured person you know. You shouldn't handle me so roughly like that."

The Doctor's mouth tugged into something almost resembling a pout. "Oh now come now Armando old boy. She's not doing it on purpose. It's not as though you're actually getting tossed about or anything. Besides," he stared Armin down "if we hadn't crashed into that nasty Titan for you, she probably wouldn't be having problems right now. And...you certainly would'n't be here now, would you now?"

Armin felt himself become uncomfortable and morose under the Doctor's triumphant eyes, realizing begrudgingly that the man had a point. As he walked through the open doorway, eyes downcast, Armin couldn't decide exactly what he thought about that.

But as he stepped out onto sandy ground, the taste of salty air on his tongue, Armin felt his chest clench as he looked before him, and decided that those kinds of thoughts could wait.

Looking on in wonder at the scenery before him, Armin felt paralyzed , eyes wide in wonder as the Doctor walked up beside him, nudging him gently in the shoulder.

"Well Armin, here it is..." he said. "What do you think?"

Words seemed to escape Armin, as a multitude of conflicting thoughts and feelings surfaced simultaneously within him, making a response difficult.

Staring at the open expanse of choppy water along a sandy shore, Armin felt unable to put his thoughts into words.

Finally, without even trying, he felt tears, made of salt-water just like the ocean in front of him, prickle at his eyes as he felt a genuine smile stretch across his face for the first time in a very long time.

He unraveled the red scarf from around his neck and held it gently in both hands, walking closer toward the shore as he did so, until he finally felt the cool water wash gently over his toes.

Reveling in the feeling of the ebbing water, almost as though it were caressing him carefully, Armin allowed himself to experimentally wade out further, until he was knee-deep in the water and having to curl his toes firmly into the silt below so that he could keep his balance under the push and pull of the waves.

As Armin stared out to the horizon, he scanned the scene before him with hungry, watery eyes, determined to commit it all to memory for fear that he many never see it again. And for the knowledge that he was viewing it for 3 people now, instead of just one.

It was this thought that finally brought Armin to his knees in the chilly water as the full weight of his situation hit him.

He gripped the scarf harder and brought it to his face, trembling violently from the cold, but still uncaring of it's affect on him at this moment.

"Eren, Mikasa...I'm – I'm so sorry..." his shoulders heaved as his tears fell, soaking into the scarf pressed against him, the salt-water from his eyes mingling with the ocean around him.

"I am so s-sorry."

And as he continued to cry violently, allowing all the pent-up despair and frustration of the last few days to fall out of him, The Doctor watching helplessly from the shore, a small sub-conscious part of Armin wondered what it was he was so sorry for.

* * *

The Hospital was still quiet when they returned later that day. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Armin registered that this should've bothered him, that it was still just as quiet as it had been the night before when they'd left, and he was nearly positive that he'd spent several hours sobbing out his woes sitting in that ocean. He was fairly sure it should've been mid-morning now, but he was honestly too tired to care. The excursion had taken a lot out of Armin, both physically and emotionally, so upon returning to his assigned room, he wasted little time in stripping off his still-soaked clothes, not even allowing himself time to be embarrased in the Doctor's presence before falling ungracefully onto his cot, only his scarf and underwear still in place.

Despite his still very raw and emotionally vulnerable state, Armin was asleep within minutes.

As Armin allowed himself to drift into slumber, the Doctor found himself contemplating what to do with himself, as he watched the even rise and fall of the young man's breathing on the cot before him. The boy shivered, and the Doctor let out an unsightly snort as he realized the boy had been in such a hurry to fall asleep, that he hadn't even pulled the blankets over himself. After having just spent hours in the cold ocean, he'd be lucky if he didn't catch hypothermia and a subsequent infection. Shaking his head in feigned exasperation, he reached over and pulled the incredibly thin blanket over the shivering young man, doing his best to make sure all his extremities were covered. Looking over his handy-work, it occurred to him that the blankets were rather thin, which seemed entirely counter-productive when it was suppose to keep a sick person from being sick, and so for good measure, he silently slipped off his coat, carefully placing it over the torso of the sleeping boy, as well as scooping up the young man's wet clothes and hanging them in the bathroom to dry.

Watching as Armin's face settled into a more peaceful, content expression, The Doctor felt a strangely familiar feeling of protectiveness come over him. He frowned at this. Was he really already getting attached to this young man? He tried to empty his head of these ridiculous thoughts. No, no no, he wasn't attached...yet. He chewed his cheek worriedly. It was true that he often took on companions, and usually became fond of them in some sort fashion. But it was rare for him to form an attachment this quickly. The Doctor pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver, playing with it idly for a few moments, concentrating intently on it as though it could give him all the answers he needed.

As he continued to stare holes into the Sonic device, wondering distractedly about his situation, the Doctor failed to hear the 'click-clacking' approach of a briskly-walking pair of heels on linoleum tiled flooring.

"So. You finally came back did you?" a forcibly polite voice demanded.

He jumped at the sound of the familiar, annoyed tone of voice, having gotten so used to hearing it reprimand him again and again over the last few days.

Keeping his stare focused strictly on the device in his hand, he felt a slight tug lift the corners of his lips.

"Well, Well Dr. Jones. Been keeping a watchful eyes on us I see." he said amused.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her pull up a chair next him, long dark hair tied at the back of her head now escaping in harried strands, putting dents into her painstakingly put-together appearance.

She glared at him, eyes dancing with an energy that somehow managed to remain absent from her controlled posture. It made her just a tad bit intimidating.

"I told you, Doctor, it's 'Smith' now, and what were you thinking?! Taking him out of hospital before he's properly healed yet?!" she berated him heatedly. "Honestly, sometimes it's as though you don't even understand why we have these basic rules."

An immature whining sound escape him. "Oh, come now Martha! It's not as though he's hurt! At least, no more than he already is! He just needed to get out for a bit, and who could blame him? It'd be absolutely maddening for me if I couldn't go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted! I mean I'm not even here all the time and I feel suffocated!" he sniffed. "Besides, we weren't even gone that long..." he paused. "were we?"

Martha sighed in resignation, hand messaging her temples gently. "Only an hour..." her eyes narrowed in realization "Wait. Why? How long were you actually gone?"

He licked his lips, debating what to tell her. After all, he didn't want her to be worried. "Just a few hours. Not any time at all really." he said casually, as though discussing the weather.

She nodded along ruefully. "Right. No time at all..." she huffed.

They sat in strained silence for a few moments, wrestling with their unspoken thoughts, both of them aware of how each other's company could affect the other. Both tensed as Armin let out a soft groan, but they heaved a shared breath of relief when he only turned over, still fast asleep. It was Martha who finally broke the tension, letting out a resigned sigh.

"Why are you here, Doctor?" she asked, turning to look at him with suspicious eyes. "I mean why are you really?"

The Doctor feigned hurt, forcing a playful pout to his lips. "Why, Dr. Jones, it almost sounds like you don't want me here?" He leaned in conspiratorially. "Does UNIT really need to know my every move that much? Or have you simply tired of me ?"

She smacked his shoulder in rebuke. "Oh don't flatter yourself." She retorted, attempting to sound aggravated, but the soft upturn of her lips betrayed the hidden playfulness lingering there. "And like I said earlier, I don't really work for UNIT anymore. Not exclusively anyway. Mickey and I are Freelancers now." her voice carried a hint of pride as she said this.

The man beside her deflated a bit at this, his brow furrowing unhappily. "Yes, I know. You and the idiot. Freelancers." He ground out the last bit with disdain, and more than a subtle hint of disapproval laced his words.

She met his disapproving gaze with a confident one of her own, silently warning him not to try guilt her with his ridiculously heroic ideals.

"You're changing the topic. Why are you still here Doctor?" Martha asked persistently. "I'm sure you're concerned about the boy, it would be unusual of you not to be, but I'm fairly sure with most other cases you would've left him here, come back when he woke up to make sure he was safe and knew he was aware of his situation, and then would've left without ever looking back." She leaned back, her face oddly blank.

"It's your profile."

His shoulder tensed with discomfort at this, her words touching upon a subject he'd found himself wondering about all too often recently.

"I sound awful." he turned, eyeing her a bit sadly. "How do you put up with me?"

Her features softened as she allowed him a tired smile. "Because you're the Doctor." she said simply.

He lowered his head onto his clasped hands, eyebrows drawn together tightly in frustration.

"The truth is..." he opened and closed his mouth several times, testing his words. "I'm not...actually sure."

Releasing a tired sigh, he slouched heavily into his seat, head turned skyward, his eyes searching.

"He's so young Martha. Sixteen..." his laughter was empty as he chuckled "Sixteen years old. Only Sixteen and already..." he gulped heavily "He's the last of his planet. The only survivor."

Realization dawned on Martha's face as she noticed his eyes become glassy. "The last Titan-killing human." He looked at her, a wry, sad expression on his face. "He's like me Martha. Maybe he isn't an alien, but he's the only one of his world still alive."

A snort of laughter escaped him before she could react. "He's smart as a whip too Jones." His features became excited as he licked his lips again. "Did you know, he figured out the consequences of the rift in space and time before I'd even explained all of it? He's..." his words caught in his throat. "He's so similar to me it's almost like he could be my own..." he faltered.

Martha felt her heart clench as it all came together. "You had a family once, didn't you Doctor?" she asked softly.

His eyes darted to Armin and back to Martha anxiously before he answered quietly. "Yes."

She leaned over, her hand taking his twitching one gently. "Does he remind you of your children, Doctor?"

He didn't say anything as he turned to look at her, swallowing hard, but he didn't need to. She could see the depth of emotion present in his eyes as he gazed at her. Without him needing to say a word, she knew the answer.

As they sat there in silence, The Doctor struggling with thoughts and emotions he'd thought long buried, and Martha rubbing his shoulder soothingly, the boy they'd thought asleep clenched the sheets beneath him, still quite awake and trying to keep his eyes closed tightly as he fought to control the sadness once again enveloping him.

This time, however, it was not for his own sake that he felt the despair, but for the strange, dotty, depressed Doctor hunched over his bedside.


	7. Chapter 6

Martha was the only one present in the room when Armin woke up the next morning, groggy after a restless nights' sleep, his dreams filled with images of sad, stoop-shouldered figures, madmen with blue boxes and bloody scarves. She stood next to his bed, a clip-board in hand as she went back-and forth between scribbling furiously and peering at him in assessment.

Her pen stopped mid-scribble as she became aware of him blinking back at her, and she cracked a small smile.

"Well, good morning there. Sleep well?"

Armin groaned tiredly as he tried sitting up, his side throbbing dully in reminder that he was still injured.

"Mmm not really." he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

She chuckled lightly and sat carefully in the chair pulled up beside the bed. "That's often the case in hospital, once you've woken up after surgery. Tends to be difficult to sleep properly." Her eyes moved to his injured side, currently buried beneath blankets. "How's your wound feeling today?"

Pressing his hand softly against his injured shoulder, Armin tested it experimentally as the dull throbbing intensified ever so slightly, eliciting a somewhat pained huff.

"Hurts." he said casually. "Not as bad as before though. Just a dull ache right now."

Martha nodded knowingly, hummed agreeably and leaned over him, lifting the blanket off of him.

"Why don't we just have a quick look then?"

Using skilled, practiced hands, she carefully undid the bandages over his wound, her face becoming more and more concerned as she came closer to removing all of them.

"Why are your coverings crusty? Infection maybe?" As she withdrew the last of the bandages, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Exactly where is it that the Doctor took you last night, Armin?" she asked curtly, eyes still focused shrewdly on the still partially covered injury.

Armin felt himself gulp in trepidation. "Umm...Just, the ocean..." he mumbled. "I – may have...sat in it...for a while..."

Her head immediately snapped up, glaring at him furiously. " HE TOOK YOU WHERE AND LET YOU WHAT?!"

Throwing care and caution to the wind, the now-livid young woman proceeded to yank the last bit of medical tape and clothe off of him roughly.

"Ow!" Armin hissed through clenched teeth.

Her face softened instantly, most of the angry tension leaving it as her eyes scanned over the stitches holding his would together. She sighed in relief and braced herself heavily against the bed, apparently satisfied with whatever she was seeing.

"You're lucky. It seems your bandages were effective enough at protecting the stitching from infection."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Armin," she began, clearly exasperated "You can't sit in the ocean with stitches like this. The wound could become infected, and you could become septic." Her eyes found his, begging him silently. "Do you understand Armin?"

He nodded, eyes downcast, successfully chastised for the moment. "Yes. I'm sorry. But," his eyes became defiant suddenly "It's something I had to do. Even at that sort of risk. I had...unfinished business."

She sighed and smiled ruefully at him. "Well, important or not, I implore you to PLEASE be more careful about your stitches in the future."

Proceeding to replace his coverings with new ones, she continued to chide him softly and without anger. "You may be well on the road to recovery but that does NOT mean you're completely healed and that you can just let anything seep into your stitches. You need to take proper care of them."

After leaning back and admiring her handiworkwork, she fixed him with concerned eyes. "You need to take care of yourself." she said this almost as a plea.

Armin swallowed as she said this, a strange feeling of both guilt and unease washing over him.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why is it so important I take care of myself? I shouldn't even..."

He faltered and sighed sadly, playing with Mikasa's scarf distractedly. "I shouldn't even be alive."

_**WAP**_!

Armin felt himself tremble a bit in shock as he stared at a livid Martha, his hand reaching up to rub his stinging cheek.

She too held her hand slightly in pain, but the look of controlled fury remained in place.

"Don't you ever, and I mean EVER say something like that!" she hissed out harshly. Armin could only stare on in disbelief as she plowed on. "The Doctor risked his LIFE to save you! Do you know what that means?!"

Armin shook his head warily, unsure whether he wanted to hear this or not.

"It means he thinks you're **_somebody_**, Armin! It means he thinks you're special!" She was almost screaming at him now, the anger in her voice having escalated from controlled to hysterical. "It means you're important. The Doctor's never met any one, let alone cared, about someone un-important!"

She huffed indignantly, making a noble attempt at trying to collect herself as she smoothed her hair back into place and adjusted her imacculately clean white coat.

"And not only that but, Armin, you're only 16. Please. You have an opportunity to live your life, and I mean really live it, for yourself and no one else." her eyes bore into his, pleading silently with him again.

"Please don't throw away the life these good people at this facility spent time and effort trying to save."

In the end, it was this comment that brought Armin out of his shocked stupor. Armin had never put too much value on his own life, but on the value of what it would mean to others, and whether or not it would label him a burden - **_that _**he cared about.

He breathed in heavily, urging himself to be rational. Maybe things would've been better if he was dead. But he wasn't. For whatever reason, the Doctor had seen fit to prevent that. His chest ached as he thought about this. Yes, the Doctor had saved him. He'd never know now what dying then would've achieved. He wouldn't even know if he'd be happier dead. After all, could one even 'be' anything while dead? His jaw tightened. But he knew one thing: He was alive now, and he could live it however he wanted.

He didn't have to fight Titans anymore. No longer would he have to live in fear. Everything he'd ever feared had already happened to him, what was there left to fear? Death?

Armin laughed at the absurdity of such an idea. Right, Death. Like he'd ever be afraid of that again.

Martha eyed Armin a bit warily as he continued to laugh, only increasing the volume as he processed these facts, realizing more and more as he did so how pointless it was to keep reveling in it all. Everything was already set in motion now. Mikasa and Eren were dead, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it anymore. He almost smiled sadly at the thought. No, it was too late to fix things now. His world, and his family, were gone now, lost to him forever. What would wanting to die now achieve, really?

Having wanted it or not, Armin was suddenly important to someone again. He didn't exactly understand why or how, but he knew now, from the conversation between Martha and the Doctor that he'd listened in on the night before, that The Doctor was loathe to leave or abandon him for his own reasons, whatever they may be.

And Martha. Armin looked curiously at the pretty young Doctor in front of him, his eyes softening as he allowed himself another tight smile. He wasn't sure what he meant to her, or why she seemed so adamant about his staying alive. He hardly even knew her, and vice-versa. But she'd obviously done quite a bit of work to keep him alive, and he wouldn't throw that away. It would be selfish.

He wouldn't allow either of them to think he was ungrateful. He would stay alive, he'd take care of himself. His hands fisted in the edges of the scarf around his neck, eyes burning with resolve.

Armin would live out his life, if he could. He'd do it for Eren and Mikasa, for the dreams they'd shared about lives outside the walls, about a world without Titans. He could live that dream now, and he'd do it for them. But he'd also do it for two others, for Martha and The Doctor, the two strangers who seemed to want to see him alive so badly. He'd live, really live for all of them. And maybe, just maybe sometime, someday in the near or even distant future, for the first time, he could live for himself.

* * *

Unfortunately for Armin and his new sense of resolve, at least another week would pass in between the time he and Martha's little conversation took place, and the next time the Doctor would decide to pop in for another spontaneous visit. During this period, Armin found himself struggling to maintain a hold on his new found sense of purpose and determination as he became more bored and frustrated with every moment that passed, with no Doctor in sight. He wanted to see the world. He had to, now that he had nothing else. He needed to see the Doctor again, to talk to him and ask if his offer to travel would still be available to him. Having not seen the enigmatic man for several days, Armin was beginning to doubt the sincerity inherent in the Doctor's initial offer.

He'd attempted many times, to his attending nurses' chagrin, to persuade the medical staff into allowing him to leave the hospital, so that he might go in search of his missing rescuer. They'd been noble efforts, but all had ended in a futile show of disappointment, as Martha Jones continued to relentlessly thwart his efforts at every turn. She always inevitably arrived to push an anxious and increasingly agitated Armin back into bed, all the while lecturing him on the perils of too much stress on fresh stitches.

But despite her stern reprimands and insufferable need to scrutinize every inch of him every few hours, she was apparently not without a soft side. After tiring of listening to Armin complain about the Doctor's dissappearance and the need to get out and see the world, she'd proposed a bargain: Armin would wait patiently until the hospital had cleared him for leave, all the while doing what the staff instructed of him and cooperating with no fuss. In exchange, Martha would allow him to walk around the cooridoors, while under her supervision only, and she would also bring him books to read while he was indisposed in his hospital wing, so that he would not be without some sort of distraction.

Armin had initially been wary, believing that very little would be able to soothe his worried and anxious mind, but he'd found himself with little other alternative than to cooperate. After all, it wasn't as though he wasn't grateful for what the hospital, or Martha herself, had done for him. And it was only a day before Armin realized that Martha's plan had actually been quite a good one. With books to occupy his mind, and he and Martha's regular walks around the medical facility to entertain him, he found himself worrying less and less about the missing Doctor or what the future might hold.

The books Martha brought him were mostly textbooks, apparently many of them hers from her schooling days, in addition to a few old paper backed books she referred to as "science fiction" novels.

"Though, I suppose they're not so much fiction these days." she'd told him, a bemused smile breaking her usually stern demeanor.

As Armin devoured the contents of each one in record time, he learned fairly quickly what she'd meant. While all the books were fascinating in their own unique way, the sci-fi books were particularly difficult for him to put down. The textbooks were all quite interesting in their own right, many of them about this world's history, government and science, and Armin found them incredibly informative. They were facts, knowledge that Armin found necessary if he was to be staying in a world different than his own. But despite the differences between this world's history and customs and his own, it was all things he expected and had read about before, at least to some extent. Information about the world around him. And as amazing as it was, it was nothing compared to what he found in the novels.

Armin had never read a novel before. They hadn't really had them in his world, after all not many people lived long enough, or had the time to devote to making up elaborate stories and recording them for posterity. Not to mention the fact that very few people had ever actually learned to read. Usually, only information about Titans and the history of mankind's stint behind the walls had ever been deemed important enough to record permanently for future generations. The closest thing to a novel Armin had ever come across were some old folktales that a few intrepid humans had decided to write down for their own children. Cautionary tales with slight fantasy twists, mostly.

Fairy tales.

But these "science fiction" novels were something wholly different from even those. They created whole worlds, unlike anything he'd ever imagined, with complex characters and stories, written in such beautiful detail that armin could never have imagined himself. It made him feel so...small. And big. All at the same time. He felt simultaneously as though he could do anything he might ever dream, and also as though he would never do or live anything as magical and all-encompassing.

In addition to the joy the books brought him, he found that his daily stroll with Martha around the hospital to be not only useful and informative, but rather enjoyable as well.

During their walks, Martha would tell him odd stories about her childhood, about growing up in England, her dreams of becoming a Doctor, and often times she would tell him things about other patients as well. She would regularly point to various patients and inform him about their conditions, what kind of food they favored over what kinds they despised, and the odd things they talked about when she would give them their physicals. She'd even occasionally give him pop quizes on their conditions, symptoms and associated comlpications. It served as a good source for learning important inofrmation.

At first, she'd avoided talking about the Doctor as much as possible, whether because it was a sensitive topic for her, or because she was afraid of inadvertently upsetting Armin, he didn't know. But as he continued to push for more information on the mysterious man, she began to hesitantly drop facts and references to him in their conversations, until eventually most of their talks began to revolve around The Doctor entirely.

Martha told him about how she'd met him in a hospital, not unlike this one, about how it was taken over by aliens and eventually led to her joining him on his travels. She talked about how deeply in love she'd fallen with him, how infatuated she'd become, and how it had begun to consume her little by little, until she finally couldn't face it anymore. Armin listened in rapt attention as she described having to leave him, being forced to realize that she would never be able to replace the woman he'd originally loved, and lost.

And she told him about her too, the woman named Rose, who'd so completely captured The Doctor's sad and lonely heart. And after Rose, he heard about Donna. And about Jack and Mickey and even his most recent companions, Rory and Amy. With every new companion that he was introduced to in her accounts, and the subsequent fate of each one, Armin found himself becoming more and more conflicted about his feelings toward this man. This man who picked up companions like stray cats, and sometimes abandoned them in the same manner. This man who was so important to so many of these people, that they'd risked, and in some cases, even given up their lives for him.

As he lay in his hospital bed one night, after having come back from another such conversation with Martha, Armin allowed his mind to turn over everything he'd learned since being rescued from death by the strange alien.

He didn't necessarily have to go anywhere with the man. After all, he was unattached to anyone now. He didn't have any real purpose. Not beyond learning and discovering new things about the world. He could probably travel by himself if he really wanted. His brows furrowed in thought. Or could he? After all, he was a nobody in this world, a ghost, with ties to only one or two people, who they themselves seemed to live almost as ghosts too, if Martha was really telling the truth about her working for the mysterious UNIT. He had no money. He didn't know how to get from one place to another, at least not without difficulty. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to find a place to live if he had to. Martha had already offered to help him with that, saying she'd be more than happy to provide a roof over his head until he'd sorted some things out. She'd even offered to get him a starting position with UNIT, apparently being impressed enough with his intellect to think that he would carve out a noted position for himself in little time.

And Armin appreciated the offer, he really did.

But as he stroked the red cotton scarf now practically permanently wound around his neck, he felt his mind filled with images of dead bodies and blood. Bodies of children who never had a chance to properly grow up because they'd become sodiers so young. His fingers tightened around the fabric. He didn't want to be a soldier anymore. Not right now. He didn't want to be used by someone else. He wanted to live for himself, and the memories of his fallen comrades. Besides, he felt restless. The idea of staying in one place, at least right now, was completely unappealing to him.

If he decided to go with the Doctor, he might end up dead, or with no memory of his time with him, or even trapped in another dimension. Was that something he was willing to risk? Was he prepared to put his life on the line for this stranger, who he hardly knew? This stranger who'd inadvertently harmed so many people?

Armin immediately knew the answer to that. No. He wasn't willing to risk life and limb for this man. Not yet , anyway. But, the chance to see a world without boundaries, to see the universe in all it's vast glory...he smiled to himself. That was something worth dying for.

He knew exactly what he wanted to do. Now all he had to do was wait for the Doctor.

It was almost midnight later that evening when Armin heard the door to his room open with a barely-audible 'click', quickly followed by the sound of the soft tapping of feet cautiously approaching.

When Armin turned his head to face the doorway, he was un-surprised to see the lanky, wobbly figure of the Doctor, hovering just a few feet from his cot, his expression uncertain.

Armin smiled at him, inwardly relieved to know that his initial thoughts about the Doctor abandoning him had been incorrect.

"Hello Doctor." he greeted kindly.

The man stayed in place, continuing to sway slightly on his feet, a look of indecision plain on his features.

"Good evening Armand-Armin. " he corrected himself awkwardly. "I'd heard you'd been asking for me."

Armin's lips quirked upward in amusement. "Martha?"

The Doctor gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. "Martha."

Armin began smoothing out his sheets nonchalantly, his hands fidgeting as he tried to remember what it was he'd wanted to say to the odd man.

"I'm surprised she was able to find you. The way she put it, it sounded like you'd be impossible to locate."

The Doctor didn't respond immediately, instead choosing to put his hands in his pockets, his eyes focused on his own feet.

Finally he let out a small huff. "Well, Martha knows that I'll never completely disappear if I think there's a slight chance someone might need me." he said carefully.

The young man nodded, understanding the message inherent in the Doctor's words.

He licked his lips a bit anxiously. "Doctor," he started quietly "Thank you."

He raised his head, attempting as well as he could to sound confident, his eyes boring into the Doctor's, whose face now squinted directly at him, curious. "Thank you for saving me. I'm glad I get a second chance to live."

As the doctor continued to stare at him shrewdly, apparently still unsure how to respond, Armin took a long, deep breathe and dug his curled fingers into the sheets, bracing himself.

"And, if it's all the same to you, I think I'd like to take you up on that offer of yours, if it's still available, I mean." His steady, forceful gaze met the Doctor's shrewd one. "I'd like to see the world Doctor – The Universe. I'd like to see all of it. If you'll let me."

The words hung there in the air, as the two continued to stare each other down, the Doctor never moving his piercing eyes off of Armin, as Armin himself continued to offer up his own intense gaze in return.

Finally, The Doctor began chuckling, softly at first, until it quickly crescendoed into a loud guffawing so loud that it startled Armin out of his expression of determination to be replaced with a look of concern. After what had to have been several minutes of this, the laughing Doctor finally straightened, wiping moisture from the corners of his eyes as he fixed Armin with a fond grin.

"Oh, My dear Armando," Armin's temple throbbed a bit "I never doubted you for a second." He trotted over to Armin's cot, plopping himself down into the chair nearest him, hunching over and rubbing his hands excitedly. "So," he asked, a playful lilt to his lips "When do we leave?"


End file.
